Chapter Twenty: Decisions and Consequences

As soon as the Cardinal exited, Astha turned to Caterina. "Thank you." She turned back to Brother Petros. "Hey. Would you remove these cuffs please?" She hated having to be even marginally polite, but this wasn't the place or time to get into a fight. "I won't cause trouble, but he needs my help." Her head turned to the battered figure chained against the wall.

Petros said nothing. He reached into a pocket on his uniform and fished out a key. Two seconds later, Astha felt a rough grip seize her wrists, and the bindings fell away. She swung her arms in front of her, to ease the slight stiffness in her shoulders, and Brother Petros growled and thrust another key at her. "This will undo his shackles. Now hurry up."

Astha moved to Constantine's side. Standing beside him, she winced. His eyes were closed, and he appeared almost unconscious. Blood stained his face, his shirt, his wrists, and his breathing was low and rough. He looked almost as bad as he had the night he'd staggered onto her lawn. She reached out and touched his shoulder carefully. "My lord?"

The blue eyes fluttered open. "Astha. You're all right?"

If the others hadn't been there, she would have called him an idiot. But appearances had to be maintained. "I'm unharmed, my lord." She looked him over. "Can you stand? I'm going to unlock your shackles, but if you can't support your weight you'll fall."

He nodded, took a breath, then shifted slightly. She saw the sudden strain in his face, but he managed to straighten, then get his feet under him. He swayed a little, then leaned back into the wall. "It's all right now. I think…. I can manage."

Astha nodded, then reached up to unlock his left wrist. It took a couple seconds, and then the binding parted with a click. Constantine groaned as the wrist came free, shifting the tight shoulder muscles. Astha caught the arm and lowered it gently to his side, noting the pain on his face. Her hand came away smeared with fresh blood, and she realized that his wrist had bled and clotted to the band, and badly. The knowledge made her nearly dizzy with anger, but she controlled it, as she had learned to do before. Carefully, she reached up and undid the manacle on his right wrist, careful to control the release so the sudden drop wouldn't be as painful to the cramped shoulder muscles. She half expected him to fall over, despite his assurance, but he remained mostly upright, leaning on the wall, his arms limp at his sides. She let him rest for a moment, then touched his shoulder again. "My lord? Can you walk? We should get you back to the rooms."

He winced, then placed both hands back against the wall and levered himself away from it's support, to stand straight. Astha noticed his hands starting to shake. But he didn't indicate he wanted help, so she let him work himself into standing position. He took one step forward, then gasped as his legs crumpled underneath him.

Astha caught him and held him upright, then slid one arm around his waist, and pulled his arm across her shoulders. She heard a muted groan from him, but otherwise he didn't protest. "I'm sorry my lord. I'm not sure I can carry you." She wished she'd still been taking her Aqua Vitae. Then she could have picked him up with no trouble. She didn't feel much weaker, but there was no way she was going to risk injuring him further with a fall if she'd misjudged. Besides, she suspected it would humiliate him, and the beating he'd endured was enough.

"No. It's all right. I just need…a little time to get my balance again." He raised his face, and offered her a weak grin. "I really do apologize for being such a burden though."

She was saved from thinking of a proper response by Brother Petros' snort. "Hurry up. I have no time to waste on this sort of thing." He stalked over. "If he can't walk, then I will drag him myself."

"No. That's really not necessary." Constantine, grinned weakly. "We're coming." He took one unsteady step forward, and Astha moved with him, supporting him with her shoulders. He staggered a little, then leaned into her. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you for a bit of help. I seem to be having a bit of trouble."

His tone was light, almost amused, and it made her want to shake him. Or something. She didn't understand how he could be so calm about the brutality he'd just suffered through, but now wasn't the time to ask. She simply pulled her shoulder a little more firmly under his. "It's not a problem. Just lean on me." She dredged up a ghost of her own feral grin to return to him. "I'm sure I've mentioned before, my lord, it's an honor to be relied on."

"Ah, well then." He chuckled, a very weak chuckle but heartening nonetheless, and together they staggered out into the corridor. Caterina took up the lead, and Brother Petros came behind them, ramrod stiff with his face (what she could see of it) set in a frown.

The journey back to their rooms took over half an hour. Constantine could barely walk, and from the way he was breathing, it seemed as if he were barely conscious sometimes. Astha half-expected Petros to intervene, but he simply scowled and followed along behind them, muttering curses under his breath every time they stopped. Caterina led them forward without comment, but Astha could see the concern in her eyes when her partner slowed, or staggered. At one point, he lost his balance and actually fell to the floor, despite Astha's best attempts to keep him upright. Petros moved forward, and lifted the fallen man roughly to his feet, then growled at Astha. "Keep a better eye on him." He waited for her to take the injured man from his grip, then gestured forward. "Keep moving."

Finally, they reached the door to their rooms. Astha let go of his wrist long enough to turn the knob, then shoved the door open with one foot and guided her partner inside, and headed straight for his rooms. He came without much protest, and Astha had the feeling he was barely there. She pushed his door open, then maneuvered him to the bed and carefully laid him down. He moaned a little as she released him, but his eyes were closed, and he was limp as a rag. Astha grimaced, seeing where some of his wounds had bled more on their trip through the halls. She looked him over, then returned to the outer rooms, looking for something to tend the injuries with.

To her frustration, there weren't any medical supplies in the room. She growled under her breath, then began running warm water into a bowl. At least she might manage to clean him up.

Caterina appeared in the doorway. "Do you need assistance?"

"What I need is a medical box with antiseptic and bandages." Astha sighed. "I appreciate the help, but I doubt you want to go through the halls looking for medical supplies for a Methuselah, even him." She turned and met Caterina's eyes.

Caterina smiled grimly. "It's true that might raise questions about my loyalties, however…" She reached under her bishops robes, and drew forth a small box, unmarked save for the small medical symbol that was universal to both Terran and Methuselah. "If there's one thing I learned in my years of service in Foreign Affairs, it's that it's best to keep supplies on hand." She smiled. "Especially dealing with Abel, he'd get injured at the oddest times."

Astha nodded, and took the box from the other woman. "Thank you, Duchess."

"Please. Caterina will do. We are, after all, very old associates."

Astha nodded again, then stepped through to the main room. Petros was leaning against the couch. He'd removed his helmet, but the scowl was still on his face. He looked up as Astha approached, then grabbed one of her arms. "What is his condition? I have questions I want to ask him."

Astha gritted her teeth, but managed to keep a hold on her temper. Barely. "He's not capable of answering questions at the moment. I need to tend to his injuries."

Petros growled, glanced at the small box in her hands, then looked away. "Very well. But make it quick. I can't linger here all day." He fished in his uniform, then shoved a small sealed jar into her hands without looking at her. "Use this. It will make things faster."

Astha blinked, looking down at the small container. It was obviously some kind of salve. She looked at the Inquisitor, but he was glaring at the opposite wall. After a moment, he glanced up at her. "Hurry up. I told you, I don't have time to waste on this." Astha nodded, then went into the room and shut the door behind her.

Once inside, she set the bowl down on the bookshelf, along with the medical supplies, and turned to the bed. Constantine hadn't moved, and his face was too pale, even in the lamplight. Astha grimaced, then reached over and began to unbutton the front of the stained shirt, and the now crimson cuffs. Once it was loose, she carefully slid it off the injured form. Her partner moaned once or twice as she shifted him, but he didn't open his eyes, or make any move to help or hinder her.

Once the shirt was off, Astha looked over the damage and winced. Almost his whole front was turning shades of black, blue and purple. There was massive bruising, and in several places he was actually bleeding. She hated to even brush against those wounds, but knew she had to check for internal injures. She ran her hands carefully over the worst areas of bruising, biting her lip as she encountered what felt like broken or cracked ribs. She couldn't tell if there was internal bleeding, and of course, there was no one here who could and would tell her. Any trained doctor was in the service of the Vatican, and probably more likely to try and kill her partner than help him. She bit her lip again, then growled in frustration, knowing she'd have to trust his health to his own healing powers.

Of the external wounds, his chest and wrists were the worst. His wrists were torn and bleeding, rubbed raw by the manacles and cut deeply where his own movement had gouged them into his arms. The center of his chest was already black with bruising, and bleeding from multiple slashes, where the inquisitor's gauntlets had broken skin. She grimaced, knowing they'd hit him there more than once. Then she sighed, reached for the water bowl, and dunked the small washcloth into the basin. She was no expert in first aid, but she knew at least enough to clean and dress the wounds. She reached forward and began to wash the blood off.

At the first touch of her hand to his chest, however, Abel jerked as though he'd been touched by a live wire. His eyes snapped open, and Astha had just enough time to see the glazed unfocused expression in them before he moved. With a sharp breath, nearly a scream, one hand shot up and shoved her arm away, with bruising force. Astha gasped, not only from surprise but from the sharp tingle of electricity that went through her wrist at his touch. She'd barely had time to register it before Abel flung himself off the bed and staggered into the wall. His eyes were still unfocused, but there was terror and desperation in his face, and Astha could almost feel the energy gathering around him.

The door slammed open to reveal Petros and Caterina standing in the doorway. Petros looked from Astha, standing by the bed, to Abel, his back against the wall. "What's going on here?"

Astha shook her head and carefully set down the bowl. "I'm not sure. He just went crazy." Petros started to move forward, and she held up a hand. "Don't touch him. I don't think it's smart." She could tell by her partner's expression that he wasn't really conscious. Whatever he had reacted to, it was something in his mind, but it was upsetting enough that he was a breath away from activating the Crusnik unconsciously. Astha still wasn't sure what would happen, but she didn't want to find out.

She moved forward, slowly and carefully, watching his reactions, until she was about a foot away. She reached out, and very gingerly laid a hand on the bruised shoulder. "Tovarish?"

Abel flinched at her touch, but at the sound of her voice, he blinked, and the haze in his eyes cleared a little. "Astha?" He blinked and looked around, confusion replacing fear. "What…?" He tried to step forward, then gasped as his legs gave out and he slid into a sitting position on the ground.

As Astha knelt beside him, another figure joined her. Abel's eyes shifted. "Lady Caterina…."

"It's all right. You're safe here." Caterina laid her own hand gently on his other shoulder. "It's all right. Just relax."

Abel sighed and put a hand to his forehead, his eyes dark with confusion and fear. "What happened to me? I remember the interrogation, and then you came, and they let me go…" He blinked. "It's so hazy from there."

Astha snorted. "What do you expect? You were hardly conscious at the time." She sighed. "Come on. You need to get back to the bed so I can finish tending to your injuries." She gently levered an arm under his shoulder.

Caterina leaned in to help her from the other side. Abel blinked again. "Lady Caterina…I appreciate the assistance, but this really is unnecessary."

"Please, it's not a problem." There was wry amusement in Caterina's voice as she helped Astha lift the injured man off the floor, and half carried him to the bed. "Besides, your assistant is right. The sooner you're taken care of, the better."

Abel grimaced, but allowed himself to be settled on the bed. As Astha grabbed the bowl and salve, his gaze flickered between Caterina and Petros. "I assume there is a reason you're both here waiting for me?"

"Indeed. I have questions to ask of you." Petros scowled and leaned against the doorframe.

Caterina nodded. "I also have some concerns."

"I see." Abel grimaced slightly, amusement and embarrassment chasing themselves across his face. He sighed, then settled back as Astha sat next to him. "Well, I confess, I'm hardly in any condition to have visitors, however, I suppose we might as well get this taken care of."

Astha looked at him. His eyes were calm and clear, but she could see the pain he was in. She spoke up hesitantly, letting formality mask her emotions. "My lord, you really should rest."

"No. It's all right, Astha." He gave her a small, wan smile. "Since I'm awake again, we really should get things squared away between us. Although, Brother Petros, I would like to ask…about this room…" He trailed off.

Petros caught his meaning. "It is safe enough, but I would speak softly were I you." He scowled. "The cardinal is not pleased."

Abel laughed softly. "So I gathered. Well, then, you said you had questions?"

Before Caterina or Petros could speak up, Astha stepped in. "I understand your position however, your injuries still need treating."

Abel winced. "We can tend to it later." He sighed, looking down at the forming bruises. "It hurts, but I don't think there's anything life-threatening about these."

"With all due respect, I disagree." Astha bowed, trying to keep her temper in check. "My lord, I found evidence of broken ribs, and those cuts may get infected, even with your powers." She hesitated a moment, then spoke again. "If you won't rest, will you at least permit me to tend to your injuries while you speak with these people?"

Abel probably would have objected, but Caterina was on Astha's side. "She's right. If it weren't for the importance of these matters, I would not be troubling you now."

Abel sighed. "All right." He looked up at Astha. "Thank you."

"It's no problem my lord." Astha settled on the edge of the bed, then gently picked up his right wrist, and began to sponge away the blood. She knew she should tend to the more serious injuries first, but she was reluctant to push him too hard. Besides, she still wasn't sure what had set off that violent reaction, and she didn't want to repeat it.

Abel winced, but didn't say anything. After a moment, Astha felt him relax, and he turned his gaze back to the waiting Vatican members. "So then…what were your concerns?"

Caterina sighed. "It's fairly simple. After what Francesco has done…" She sighed again. "Is there any way this situation can be salvaged? The Imperial court already knows your identity has been questioned. And after this brutality…."

Astha grimaced herself. Abel turned to her, indicating she should speak. Astha thought a moment, then spoke reluctantly. "After this…there is no way the Imperial council will accept this action." She sighed in frustration. "I can't think of any way that we aren't compromised. They might possibly have overlooked the insult of questioning our envoy, but after this attack….I don't see what we can do to prevent them from breaking off negotiations."

"Well, it depends, really." Abel turned his head. "Lady Caterina, what precisely did you tell the Imperial Representative with whom you spoke?"

Caterina furrowed her brow in thought. "I told him that there was a question as to your identity. That's all."

"Well then." Abel smiled suddenly, taking Astha aback. "Then I think we can actually contain the situation rather easily."

"What?" Astha looked up from where she was binding his wrist with gauze. "How? There's no way the Council will consent to continue negotiations after what's been done to you…"

"Which is precisely why I have no intention of telling them what has happened." Abel's eyes clouded. "It's true, if they hear I was subjected to the interrogation and beaten, they will immediately recall us. So I don't intend to tell them anything other than the basic facts. That my identity was called into question because of my resemblance to a former member of the clergy, and that it was resolved. We won't mention this little incident at all."

"What?" Astha stopped, staring at her partner. "You mean…you intend to simply ignore the entire incident." Her anger ignited, fueled by the blood that still marred the pale face, and her awareness of the wounds that marked him. "My lord…what they've done to you is…" She rose, fighting to control the anger in her system, to speak calmly. "It's inexcusable. And you really intend to just let them get away with this?"

"Well, I suppose that is one way of looking at it." Abel sighed. "Please, Astha…"

She was too angry to listen, to even speak to him as her superior. "They tortured you. That Cardinal…he knew you were an Ambassador of our people and he still treated you like this." She was aware, somewhat, of Caterina and Petros in the background, but both of them were silent. "Even if you personally can forgive him, this was an insult of the highest magnitude to our Empire. To say you're simply going to allow it… to accept what they did to you…."

"Astha!" Abel's voice cut sharply across her anger. She stopped. Abel held her gaze for a few seconds, then looked away and spoke softly. "I assure you, I am very much aware of what the Cardinal di Medici did to me. And I am aware that at least part of his intention was to try and force us to leave. But….if we tell the Council and they force us to return, then we won't be able to accomplish anything. And in that case…" He turned his eyes back to meet hers. "In that case, what was the point of enduring this at all?"

The words hit her like ice water to the face. She held his gaze, then looked away, unwilling to concede. "And what about your sister? Are you going to keep this from her as well?"

Abel sighed. "Seth…Seth will probably guess anyway, that something has happened." He sat quiet for a few moments. "I will probably tell her everything, but later. I want to see what comes of this before I upset her too much." He reached out and touched Astha's arm, forcing her to turn and face him. "I'm asking you to abide by my wishes in this."

Astha looked into the blue eyes for a moment, then bowed her head slightly, acknowledging the authority that underscored his soft words. "As you wish, my lord." She wanted to protest, to argue some more, but she could see the determination in his eyes. Besides, as much as she didn't like it, she knew he was right. After a moment, she sat back down, then reached across to take his other arm, and began to clean the cuts. "I apologize for my outburst."

Abel chuckled. "It's all right. You're not the first person I've had that discussion with." She felt him shift as he turned his head back to the others. "Well then, do you think that will work, lady Caterina?"

"I think it will do just fine." Caterina smiled, then spoke softly. "You really haven't changed at all, have you?"

"Well, I'm not so sure about that…" Abel chuckled again. Then he turned to face Petros, still standing in the doorway. "But I understand you also had some questions for me?"

"Indeed." The inquisitor moved forward until he was standing on the other side of the bed. "Tell me, how much of what you said was the truth?"

"Ah." Abel sighed, and Astha felt him lean back. "I assume you're referring to my discussion with the Cardinal di Medici."

Astha heard the sudden strain in his voice and looked up. All the good humor was gone from his eyes. He looked suddenly weary, and uncertain. Astha finished wrapping the battered wrist in gauze, then touched her fingers to the arm above the wrap. "Hey. You look like hell." Concern for his condition, especially his mental status, drove thoughts of formality from her mind. She turned to face Brother Petros. "You just got through beating the crap out of him. Can't this wait?"

Abel shook his head. "It's all right."

"No it's not. After what they've done, he could at least give you a little space." She saw the determined look creeping back into Abel's eyes, and sighed in frustration. "You really are too stubborn for your own good." To give him a little more time, she turned and looked up at Petros. "Will you at least let me make him more comfortable? I need to take care of his ribs and his chest if he's going to insist on talking much more."

Petros growled slightly, but after a moment, he nodded. "Your request is reasonable. But make it fast."

Astha turned, and caught the glint of Abel's exasperation. "I'm afraid I have to insist on this."

Abel sighed. "Very well."

Astha picked up the bowl, and studied the wounds. The ones on his chest were still the worst, barring the broken ribs, but memory of his last reaction made her unwilling to touch them. To give herself time, she began with the other wounds, sponging away blood and rechecking for internal injuries. She felt him flinch as she prodded some of the darker spots, but he said nothing. Finally, she worked her way up to the wound on his chest. She bit her lip, then decided the straightforward approach was best. She reached forward and pressed the cloth firmly against the worst of the gashes.

Abel abruptly went rigid, and she saw his hands clench suddenly, fisting around the sheets. She looked up into his face. He was white as a sheet, and starting to perspire. His eyes were far away, and held the same terrible expression she had witnessed in the interrogation chamber. She moved her hand away, then touched his nearer shoulder. "What is it?"

His eyes came back to her, and he shook his head. "It's nothing."

"Like hell it's nothing." Since she'd already dropped the formality, she saw no reason to try and recover it. "You look like you're going to faint. If it hurts that badly, or there's something wrong…."

"It's not important." He forced a pale grin. "It's just a little uncomfortable."

Astha knew he was lying, but he obviously wasn't going to tell her the truth, whatever it was. She turned her attention back to cleaning the injury. As her hand touched his chest, he tensed again, but he didn't say anything. Astha focused on her work. She had cleaned away most of the blood when she noticed something odd about the injury.

Underneath the gashes and bruising the skin looked…odd. She leaned forward a little, running her other hand lightly over the injury. There was a slight unevenness to the skin, and even around and through the bruises, it looked...paler. She frowned. A scar? She'd seen no signs of other scarring, and knew for a fact there was no mark of the Venice incident, when a bolt of ionized energy from her spear had gone straight through him.

A sudden memory touched her, from their conversation when she'd woken him from his nightmares. "I remember…I remember dying." She froze, looking at the injury, remembering the words spoken, then looked up into the pale face. "Tovarish?" She couldn't frame the question, but the haunted painful look on his face was answer enough. She dropped her hands. "Damn it."

"What is it?" Caterina had moved to stand beside Astha and, at the look on Astha's face, even Petros straightened from leaning against the wall.

"It's all right." Abel forced his trademark grin, but one hand moved to his chest. "It's only an old wound." He sighed, and his eyes turned to Astha. His hand moved again, to touch her wrist. "It's really all right."

"But…that scar…" Astha wasn't sure how to say what she meant, what she was thinking, but Petros interrupted.

"Scar? Let me see that." He moved to the bedside, and leaned forward. One hand reached out.

Abel caught the hand, just before it brushed his chest. "If you don't mind, I'd really appreciate it if you'd remove your gloves first. Those metal gauntlets do a lot of damage and I think I've had enough of them for today."

Petros snorted, but removed both gloves and shoved them into his belt, then he leaned forward and brushed his hand across the injured part of Abel's chest. Astha saw her partner tense and grit his teeth, but he made no move to stop the other man. After a moment, Petros pulled away. "There is a definite scar there. But the man I knew would not have been marked even by the worst of injuries."

"Do you doubt my identity, Brother Petros?" Abel looked concerned.

Petros snorted, then looked away. "I don't doubt who you are, but…" he turned fierce eyes on the man sitting on the bed. "Why do you carry a scar? How much of what you told the cardinal was the truth?"

"I must admit, I'm also curious." Caterina settled at the foot of the bed. "I recall you mentioned a brother during your last trip. But you never said you saw him in Albion. And he's right." A small sad smile creased her face. "After all those missions, I never once saw you bear a mark afterwards."

"Fatal wounds don't heal cleanly." Abel's own voice was soft, and his eyes were pained as he met Caterina's "It's true normally…it does heal without a trace. But in a case where something actually is fatal…it never heals properly. My brother had scars from his injury as well."

"Explain." Petros folded his arms.

"What…oh, about my brother." Abel sat back. "Actually except for my name, I haven't really lied about anything. It's more…misdirection you might say. Almost everything I told Cardinal di Medici was true. " A smile, more like a grimace, twitched across his face and then disappeared. "I do have a twin brother. We were separated during a fight, and I really did believe he had died then, until my sister told me otherwise." He sighed. "And I really did encounter my brother in Albion." He blinked, coming back from his memories. "You probably heard word of him, though you wouldn't have known who he was. A blond man…"

"We heard of him." Petros scowled. "He attacked the Palace, and entered the Underground, but we didn't encounter him."

"Then…your brother was with Rosenkreutz?" Caterina frowned.

"He was." Abel grimaced. "I often wondered….a lot of what they did, the way they were operating, their ability to access things…it seemed similar to his methods. But I only heard he was alive while visiting the Empire, and I didn't see him until Albion." He saw the shock on both of their faces. "I'm sorry if you feel I should have told you but the truth is, I wasn't sure if he really was behind it, or how far up in the ranks he was. And…" His head bowed, and his next words were softer. "I did not want it to be true."

Petros still looked like a thunderstorm, but Caterina nodded. "I understand." Her eyes flickered to the faint scar on his chest. "Was he with the man who killed you?"

Abel flinched, his hands suddenly clenching. "No." His voice was soft, distant. "He wasn't with him…my brother was the man who killed me."

Astha heard both of them gasp. There was a shocked silence for a few moments, and then Caterina spoke. "You can't be serious."

"I wish I weren't." Abel's face was white, his eyes desperate and haunted by memories.

"Despicable." Petros face contorted with rage. "For a man to work for such beings as Rosenkreutz…and to kill his own brother is beyond forgiveness."

Abel winced, and a pained smile touched his face. "Well, then I suppose, you'd find me terrible as well. After all, I may not have worked for them, but when I left the Vatican, it was to find him…and destroy him."

"Abel…" Caterina stopped.

Petros grimaced, then looked away uncomfortably. The silence in the room lengthened, tension making it almost unbearable. Finally Petros spoke. "There is no dishonor in avenging a wrong done to you. And if he was with Rosenkreutz…"

Abel sighed. "Please…don't judge him too harshly. My brother was…what he became in the end was as much my fault as his own. I can't explain it all but…" he looked at Caterina, and at Petros. "My brother was...not the man I knew in the beginning. He was a good man once. But…he has also endured a fatal injury, and…" he stopped, swallowed. "I knew the risks, but I still tried to save him. And my brother lost his mind. What he did…working with Rosenkreutz…it was because of that."

Caterina nodded. "Is that why you warned me against that method of saving someone?"

"Yes. Now you know what I was afraid of…and why I couldn't tell you…" Abel sighed, then abruptly shook his head and gave Petros a wan smile. "I'm sorry. We seem to have gotten rather off topic. You were asking about me." He met the inquisitor's dark gaze, then spoke softly. "I'm sorry, if you feel I betrayed you by not revealing my brother. But…he was my responsibility."

Petros was silent a little longer, then looked away. "Sometimes we are given personal missions by God, that must be fulfilled by our own hands. I will accept that in this case." He paused a moment. "I only have one more question. Were you working for the Empire when you left the Vatican after the Albion incident?"

"No. After I left the Vatican, I was more or less working alone. I did have help from the Earl of Memphis, but it was independent. I did not appear within the Empire until after my task was done." He looked into Petros eyes. "If you're worried about my compromising the Vatican…I swear, I have not and will not. My sister and I have arranged matters."

"Arranged matters?"

"Yes. My sister was a part of the group that welcomed the Vatican envoys. She's given the Empress a report of my activities, but it only lists me in temporary service to the AX division. I can give you a copy of the report if you wish."

Caterina spoke up. "Actually, I have a report on the Vatican activities of Abel Nightroad in the report I gave Francesco. Here." She withdrew the papers from the folder.

Petros read through them, then turned a scowl on Abel. "How can I know that this is the only information the Empire has?"

Abel met his gaze steadily. "I'm sorry. There's nothing I can say, really. All I can do is ask that you trust me. I swear to you, I will not endanger the Vatican."

Petros stared at him for a moment, then turned away. "Very well, I believe you." He leaned back against the wall, and turned his glare suddenly to Astha, who was sitting on the bed, listening. "Finish your bandaging. I have to make my report, and it would look suspicious if I left my medical supplies here."

Astha nodded and turned to her partner, leaning against the pillows against the headboard. "Think you can sit up?" Abel nodded, and moved carefully to the edge of the bed, sitting upright. Astha removed a roll of bandages from Caterina's kit, then took the lid off the small container Petros had given her. The sharp smell of medicinal herbs hit her nose. She grimaced, then began to smooth the salve into the wounds. Abel yelped once or twice. Astha ignored him, knowing he only fussed about minor things. She finished cleaning the wounds, including the cuts across his face, then began to awkwardly wrap the bandages around him.

Petros watched for a moment, then made a disparaging noise. "You've never done this." He stepped around the bed, and took hold of the linen roll. "Move, or this will take all day." He dropped to one knee, and began to wrap the bandage, carefully but firmly around Abel's torso. At the broken ribs, Astha saw him pull it a little tighter. Abel gasped, and Petros snorted again. "Quiet. It has to be tighter to support that broken rib. I don't need you bleeding from internal wounds. You're enough trouble as it is." He finished the bandaging, closed the salve jar and shoved it into his uniform, then stood. "I'm leaving now. You two are confined to these quarters. And you…" One hand pointed to Caterina. "There are guards outside the door. If you're not out of here in fifteen minutes, I'll have you confined as well. On Cardinal di Medici's order." And he was gone.

Astha took a deep breath, then turned to look at Abel. He had slumped back against the bed, and she could see that the whole thing had taken a toll on him. She stood. "You really do need to rest."

Abel sighed, opening tired eyes. He turned his face to Caterina. "Is there something else you need, Lady Sforza?"

"No." Caterina stood gracefully. "The Duchess of Kiev is right. You should get some rest, Ambassador."

Abel laughed. "It seems so strange, hearing you speak to me like that. Really, you needn't be so formal." The laughter died and the blue eyes clouded. "I'm not sure I'm really in the mood for resting."

Astha thought she understood. She thought for a moment, then touched his arm. "Can I get you something?"

Abel blinked at her, and nodded slowly. "I'd appreciate something to drink."

Astha went out into the other room. There was still a bottle of wine from earlier. She poured some into a cup, then opened her bags, searching for the bag of personal belongings. Inside, she found the small vial she'd used before. She opened it, poured a few drops into the glass, then took it back to him. "Here. Drink it all."

Abel took it from her, but didn't drink. "Astha…"

"Yes, I put something in it again." Astha growled impatiently. "You need it right now. Don't worry, I'll keep my promise."

Abel stared at her for a moment longer, then lifted the glass and drank. As soon as it was empty, Astha took it from him. "Rest well, my lord." She and Caterina withdrew to the other room.

"What was that all about?" Caterina eyed the cup in her hands.

"I gave him something to knock him out for a while." Astha set the cup on the tray, then filled the other one and took a sip. "His sister gave it to me, in case he needed it."

Caterina sighed, looking to the closed door. "The things he's suffered…it's a miracle he's forgiven any of us." Astha could see the sad expression on her face. "His own brother…"

"I was surprised as well." Astha took another swallow of wine.

"He told you."

"Not willingly. But after everything that happened…he made it as far as my estate before he collapsed. I was there when he told his sister about…Rosenkreutz, and his brother's death. I found out then."

"I see." Caterina's face was pensive but then she visibly shook away her thoughts and turned back to Astha. "And this incident…do you intend to follow his lead? If you wish to report it, I can give you access to a connection."

Astha shook her head. "No. I intend to obey his wishes. I don't like what's been done to him but…he's right." She set the empty cup down. "If I go to the Council, it will make his sacrifice worthless. I won't do that to him."

"I understand. I appreciate your patience." Caterina sighed. "Though we may have trouble anyway. I trust Petros, if I trust anyone, but everything depends now on what his report is, and how the Council views it."

"What about the Pope?"

"Alessandro…that also depends. He's gotten stronger, but he's still vulnerable to Francesco, and to the opinions of the other church officials. I'll try to explain things to him, but we'll just have to wait and see. Although…he's very close to Brother Petros. If that man has decided to support you, it may turn things around."

"I understand. But…are you planning to tell him the truth? You and Petros both know…"

"I intend on telling Alessandro what I told Francesco." Caterina looked at the clock. "I need to be going. I have things I must do, and I wouldn't put it past Francesco to actually order my arrest for staying too long."

"Yes." Astha nodded. "I'll take care of him. With any luck, by the time things are sorted out, he should be better." She hesitated, then extended a hand to the other woman. "Thank you for your assistance."

Caterina took her hand. "Thank you for taking care of him for me." And then, like Petros, she left, shutting the door behind her.

After Caterina left, Astha took a few more drinks to soothe her nerves, then went back to the bedroom door and opened it slightly. In the light from the room behind her, she saw Abel, already unconscious. She sighed, then shut the door and leaned against it. Now that everything was over, she could admit how worried she'd been. For a moment, the thought of simply going to sleep seemed irresistible, but the memory of Abel's haunted face returned, along with the images of his wounded body. The thought was enough to drive sleep from her mind. And there was her promise to consider. She suspected he'd have another bad time after the drugs wore off. She looked around, then grabbed the desk chair and turned back to enter the room again.

Abel hadn't moved at all. He was still sprawled carelessly against the headboard, though he wasn't really leaning against it anymore, just lying across the pillows. In the dim light of the room, she could see his pale face relaxed in sleep, though his breathing was shallow. Her eyes roamed over the bandages that wrapped his wrists, and his body from shoulder to waist. She grimaced, then pulled a blanket over the still form of her partner, and ran one hand over his face, checking for a fever. Then she settled the chair against the wall and sat back in it with her feet propped on the foot of the bed, ready to wake him if she needed to.

The next day passed slowly for Astha. She dozed, now and again, waking stiff and uncomfortable in the chair. Abel slept, rarely even shifting. When she was awake, Astha read, or wrote reports, but was difficult to keep her mind on her work. She found herself looking up every so often to check on him. Sometimes it was just an impulse to make sure he wasn't getting ill but sometimes he would shift in his sleep, and she would pause, waiting to see if there was a reason for his restlessness.

Caterina came once, to check on him as well. Astha barely heard the outer door open, but the first click of the bedroom doorknob had her on her feet and in fighting stance, only to relax as she saw the slender figure in the doorway. She bowed. "Duchess of Milan."

"It's fine, you don't have to be so formal." Caterina sighed, then turned back to the bed. "How is he?"

"He hasn't woken yet." Astha turned to look at her tovarish. "He's moved a few times, and I think the drugs might be wearing off soon, but he's still unconscious." She saw Caterina's face, and spoke softly. "I'd prefer not to disturb him."

"I understand. Actually, I only came to check on him myself." A sad smile touched the woman's face. She nodded toward the chair. "You've been watching over him?"

"Of course. It's my responsibility."

"He'd probably disagree. He always did with me." Caterina stepped over to the bed, and placed one hand gently on Abel's forehead. "I used to keep watch over Abel, when he was in the AX. I stood by his hospital bed more than once."

Astha nodded. "I'm…not really used to this sort of thing. I saw him injured in Venice, but I didn't visit him there for almost two days. When he stayed with me in the Empire…." She stopped.

"It's difficult." Caterina smiled again, still with that trace of sadness. "Abel was always such a difficult man, but…every time I saw him hurt, I never quite believed it. Even as he is, he seems so vital, so strong."

Astha hadn't really thought of it, but looking at the slender figure sprawled under the blanket, she knew that Caterina was right. Somehow, it was difficult to see him injured. She kept remembering the man who had walked out of a hospital in Venice with her, the man who had worked with her in the Empire, and reconciling him with the wounded invalid who lay before her was hard.

Caterina stood silent for a few moments, then sighed and turned away. "I must be going. I told the guards I wouldn't be here for longer than five minutes."

"I understand. But before you go….can you tell us our status? He'll want to know."

Caterina sighed. "You're right, he will want to know. However, I'm afraid I can't answer you." A rueful smile crossed her face. "I've heard nothing official since Petros gave his report."

"I understand. Thank you for stopping by." Astha hesitated, then asked, "Should I send you a message when he wakes?"

"No. It's better if you don't. After all, if he really isn't Abel, then I have no real reason to be concerned over him. The only excuse I had for this was that I was curious about him. After he wakes, there will probably be a reason for me to see him again." Caterina sighed, and then left. Astha returned to her vigil.

She didn't remember when she fell asleep, but she woke to a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Astha." The sound of her name, spoken softly, jerked her fully awake and upright.

Abel was conscious, sitting on the edge of the bed with a blanket wrapped around his bandaged shoulders. As her eyes opened, he smiled and sat back. "You know, you're going to get terribly sore if you sleep like that. You should probably get some rest in your own bed."

She did have a crick in her neck, but she ignored it as she stood. "My lord, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, really Astha." He looked up from where he was sitting. "Go get some rest."

She was tired enough to drop, but honor and pride kept her standing. "My lord, I promised…"

"I know." Abel rose and put a gentle hand on your shoulder. "I truly do appreciate that you've looked after me so carefully." He held up one bandaged wrist. "And that you tended to my injuries so well. But you need to take care of yourself as well. Please, go rest. I will be all right."

Astha looked at him. His face was still a little too pale for him, but his eyes were calm. He didn't look like he'd woken from a nightmare. "And what will you be doing?"

"Actually, I'll probably sleep a little more." Abel laughed, a sheepish note to his voice. "I know I've been asleep for a while, but I was thinking I'd like a little more rest. But I had to go to the bathroom, and then I saw you sitting there…well it seems very unfair to you. So please, go rest. Otherwise, I don't think I'll be able to sleep either."

Astha wasn't sure she accepted the argument, but she was also too tired to argue. She nodded, and went back to her own bed, in the sitting room. It only took a moment to remove her boots and jacket, but when she turned around, Abel's door was already shut. With a sigh, she settled back into the sheets. She was asleep before she'd even finished relaxing.

Author's Note: Sorry about the late update. Computer troubles and holidays…. And Abel is being stubborn…again.